The Stalker, Part 2

The ranch barn cat, June Bug—formerly named by me “The Stalker,” for clear covert actions and suspected evil intentions, details known only to her—has now been appropriately renamed. “The Hiker” follows me all around on my short treks on trails surrounding the mountain property where I perform winter caretaker duties. Wherever I go, whether walking the grounds or hiking the foothills, I have a feline shadow.

My good friend at home, Lance, The Wonder Dog, loves to hike with me. Even at 12 years old, he still has a spring in his cockapoo step and thoroughly enjoys getting outdoors with me, into the backwoods, with the wild smells and thrill of discovery.

I guess most dogs do. But who knew a cat would like that too? I’m not a cat person, but I fear a growing affection for this one … a fellow hiker, a kindred spirit, enjoying the high country.

Not only does June Bug tail me every step along the way on my hikes, she often chooses to follow the exact same route I’ve led with. If on a trail I cross a glistening frozen creek, stepping carefully on snow-covered rocks or a fallen log, she follows the same course. If I’m pushing through six inches of fresh powder, my new hiking buddy steps in my tracks rather than making her own. She does lead sometimes, but keeps looking back to see if I’m staying close and would have picked the same direction through the forest. The bit of bouldering I do proves no problem for my diminutive, four-legged furry friend.

Now, I’m not saying that this cat—if she could, given research about her kind—would hesitate to kill and devour me. Maybe she’s put that agenda item on the back kitty litter. Maybe she’s reconsidered, given our relative size difference. Perhaps June Bug has simply decided she has grown to enjoy my company in turn. In any case, I’ve taken her off my personal tiny terrorist list. I will give her the benefit of a doubt that she simply enjoys hiking as much as I do. Still, I’ll keep my eye on her.​